


Have no regret about (forget about) the chances you missed

by Mozzarella



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dating, Dinner, M/M, Reconciliation, Sharon's pretty great let's be honest here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15145739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: In which Steve takes an opportunity, and asks Tony Stark out. Not on a date though.Okay, yes, maybe a date.





	Have no regret about (forget about) the chances you missed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faite/gifts).



> The title is probably longer than this fic, heheh (I've used the exact same Ella Fitzgerald song for titles for TWO of my fics and I need to stop) 
> 
> Jokes aside: I am so not updated with current Marvel comics events it's not even funny, but I still wanted to make these two sad men reconcile and be happy. Finally. 
> 
> Based on the short prompts: 
> 
> 1\. Pining Steve  
> 2\. "Is this a date?" Date  
> 3\. Current/vague future canon fix-it
> 
> Has references to Steve's relationship with Sharon in the comics and some Sharon positivity, but absolutely 100% A-Grade Steve/Tony

Sometimes Steve wondered if he could even still ask, after everything they’d been through. Even with the optimism of coming back together, of being Avengers again, Steve couldn’t look at Tony without having to watch him turn away every time, the shame on Tony’s face mirroring that which Steve felt in his gut—clenching, dull anger and pain mixed with uncertain guilt over what he’d suffered and what he’d done in equal measure.

Nobody would ever tell him it was something he _should_ do, not even himself, and certainly not Tony.

But it was something he _wanted_ to do. And it had been way too long since he let himself do something he really wanted.

And he wanted Tony. Wanted to be his friend again, but more than that, wanted to bask in the affection and charisma and warmth that radiated off the man that Steve never realized he’d enjoyed until it had been shut away from him like guttered sunlight.

Even after all that had passed between them, Steve had his pride, but that felt like a hollow consolation for loneliness.

 

* * *

 

 

“So you want to ask him on a date.”

“What—no, that’s not… We always used to just… spend time. They weren’t dates,” Steve said, aware that he sounded blustering, like a man defending stepping out with another woman to his own wife. Sharon just looked amused, like she was tolerating more bull than she was being paid to tolerate.

“Oh, call it what you want, and I’ll call it as I see it. You want to ask Tony Stark out, and you’re having a crisis over it. Like this is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in the past two years,” Sharon said, the lines at the sides of her eyes crinkling in amusement. “And you’re talking to me about it because… you’re asking for permission?”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it, Steve?” Sharon said. She was gentle, her tone affectionate, and if she truly believed what she was saying about how Steve felt about Tony, well… she seemed to be taking it better than Steve imagined she would.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “You… the two of us, we lost so much time.”

“You and me or you and Tony?”

“Both,” Steve said finally, throwing his arms up. “Both of you. So much has happened. I feel like I’ve spent more time dead than alive. Sometimes I want to keep going like I am so I can pretend I’ve been living a linear life and sometimes I want to go back to when it was all… coffee and basketball with my partner on the field as a hero and Avenger. I’m losing my sense of time, and sometimes it feels like all I can do is hold onto what made sense. And a lot of that…”

“A lot of that involved you and Tony Stark together,” Sharon said, sighing. “Yes.  That’s certainly the impression I got. The world only ever seems to make sense when you two are fighting together, and not each other.”

“Just because I want to… to be with him again doesn’t mean I want to date him,” Steve muttered.

“If you say so,” Sharon said indulgently, patting his arm. She sat in the chair with the air of authority that made Steve believe she’d be a better leader and agent than he was—and he was right, even if nobody could have ever predicted he would be so deeply manipulated by HYDRA at the time.

“You don’t have to ask my permission. I know we’ve never really established where we stood after everything that went on with Kobik and HYDRA, but our lives seem like they’re a series of second chances nowadays. And every time we lose another opportunity it feels silly to throw away the ones we can still take. And honestly, Steve, if it’s something you want to do, you don’t need to wait for other people to tell you it’s okay. We’re long past that. You’ve saved the world ten thousand times and will again ten thousand times over—nobody’s going to resent you for wanting to be happy. For finding and keeping a connection.”

“We were supposed to be that,” Steve said miserably. “That was what we were.”

“You don’t really get to decide how you feel,” Sharon said patiently. “Just how you deal with it. And me, personally, I have so much responsibility that I don’t feel ready to jump back into being in a relationship, at least not now. But if things don’t go well for you, I’ll be here anyway. Whether as a friend or something else, it’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of her head, the blond hair lining with some small strands of gray. It made her look dignified, he thought.

“I’m sorry I made you deal with my issues,” he said, and Sharon laughed heartily, punching him in the arm so hard he could feel it bruise. He smiled brightly.

“Well you have so many, I don’t expect even Captain America to be able to deal with all of them,” she said.

He left her office (no matter how often she denied being leader, it suited her remarkably) feeling lighter, and for once feeling like he was a man with a plan again, one that didn’t involve a raid or a mission or anything life-threatening, one that still held the possibility of failure nonetheless—but a great reward that made the trying worth it.

 

* * *

 

When Tony Stark got the message to meet for dinner, he considered rejecting it, excusing himself on another of the list of endless projects he was dealing with, with the establishment of Stark Unlimited and supporting the new cadre of superheroes while getting back into the game himself.

After all, even with all the hope and friendships and alliances forged in the midst of world-shattering crises, he and Steve couldn’t actually get together and talk without arguing about something or other, past grievances no longer allowing them to keep these arguments the civil meeting of minds they once were. It felt like such a long time ago, yet so clear in Tony’s mind—those days when they never agreed on anything at first, but all that meant was that they could find a perfect, balanced solution and be better for it, instead of simply fighting to see who would be more bullheaded.

Still.

Still, Steve reached out, and he hadn’t demanded it, nor spoken of it as business, Avengers or otherwise. It was dinner. If all else failed, Tony could just stuff his mouth and let awkward silences take over for shouting matches.

 

He arrived at a cozy, family-run Italian hole-in-the-wall in Brooklyn, eclectic enough to attract young hipster crowds but with a smiling old woman behind the counter making Tony think it had been around for much longer than that. She perked up when he landed, having taken the suit, not believing for a second that parking would be an option around what looked to be purely walk-in cafes down a one-way road.

“You go upstairs!” she said, greeting him at the door, her heavy accent full of warmth and expectation, pointing to, of all things, a rooftop access fire escape. Tony was baffled briefly by her insistence, but shrugged and lifted off, finding the top of the brownstone that he missed flying down the other end of the road.

Hung with the same recycled Christmas lights that made the interior so warm and novel, the rooftop seemed to have been made up special, with only one table in the centre and a familiar, broad-shouldered blond standing beside it, giving him a little wave as he landed.

“Thought you’d prefer the privacy,” Steve greeted, gesturing to the table. Tony paused at the bottle set beside two glasses, but relaxed when he read the label and found only sparkling apple cider.

“Don’t lie—you just wanted to be able to stand up without bending over,” Tony shot back, and Steve shrugged wryly, pulling a seat out and waiting expectantly for Tony to sit.

“You see right through me, Sh—hmm, Tony. I got us some house specials prepped, if you don’t mind me ordering ahead for you. I just didn’t want to bother Mr. and Mrs. Morelli all the way down there while they’re serving customers.”

Instead, Tony thought, he wanted to serve the food himself, carting over a heavy set of pastas and other mouth-watering dishes that reminded Tony of how much Steve could really eat when he gave himself time to indulge. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Steve had sat together to really enjoy a meal—his last memories of Steve eating had been hurried, perfunctory, always looking after other people and having to recharge as quickly as his time would allow.

“You’re not busy?” Tony blurted out, and Steve shrugged.

“Not these days. Sharon makes a better leader than I ever was.”

Tony forced himself not to react to the mention of Agent 13, but the knowing glance Steve threw him from across the table as he began to help himself to some of the entrees told him he hadn’t quite succeeded.

“That’s not true,” Tony said. “Extenuating circumstances,” he added, looking at Steve for his own reactions. Steve looked like he didn’t mind the scrutiny, meeting Tony’s assessing gaze long enough that Tony had to look away.

“I’m glad to have free time,” Steve said. “It gives me… perspective. The kind I’d lost living mission to mission. It’s easier to ignore, well, everything, when you’ve convinced yourself you have to save the world every single day just to be useful.”

Tony smiled, feeling the atmosphere fall over him like a blanket, Steve’s relaxed tones making the tension go out of his shoulders. It was a familiar feeling, one he thought he’d never feel again. Just being around Steve. Being around him when he wasn’t angry or fighting, at least.

“But now that I’ve had time to think, I realized there are just some things I can’t ignore anymore,” Steve said, the finality in his tone making Tony look up, seeing the serious expression on his face. His heart dropped into his stomach so fast he wondered if the food had gone bad between his throat and his stomach.

“Yeah?” Tony said faintly, resting his elbow on the table and listening intently to what Steve had to say. Of course it’d be important—why would he bother with all the bells and whistles of keeping Tony relaxed if it wasn’t.

“I… I missed you,” Steve said quietly, apropos of nothing. Tony’s brows wrinkled, trying to parse where the conversation was meant to go from here. “I mean, I missed this,” Steve went on, gesturing to the table, their surroundings, and to Tony himself. “Remember when we would find time between missions to just… relax, eat, spend time together?”

“Those were the days,” Tony said, leaning back into his comfortable chair, some kind of wicker creation that was soft but unyielding. “I loved spending time with you. I even remember when you didn’t know who I was, and you’d always find places that served drinks with straws for me to have through the suit.”

They both chuckled at that, remembering the little mouth slit through which Tony had found increasingly creative ways to take in food and drink, with Steve suggesting smoothie place after smoothie place, until Tony begged off, saying he was fine with juice and sodas if it meant he didn’t have to feel like a Gerber baby every time they went out.

“What was it?” Tony said, trying to steer the conversation back before he made himself depressed with the memory of days long past.

“What was what?” Steve asked.

“The thing you said you couldn’t ignore anymore,” Tony said, recalling Steve’s seemingly damning statement.

“I… I said it already,” Steve said, looking at Tony like he wasn’t getting the punchline to a joke.

“What did—”

“I said I missed you,” Steve reminded him. “That was it. It’s why… well, this. I missed being with you without all the craziness of our work. Which is why I asked you to come to dinner with me tonight. Just so we could, you know—talk. Eat. Take a break. I know you’re busy, and I’m sorry if I took you away from something, but I thought maybe you’d like to—”

“Steve, stop,” Tony said gently, reaching over and patting Steve’s arm. “This is great. I’m happy to be here, you really…” He looked around, smiling at the warm yellow lighting. “You really went all out here. But is that really all this is? Just because you missed me?”

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head, looking down at where Tony’s hand rested on his arm before moving his hand to curl over the back of Tony’s.

“No. That’s not all this is,” Steve said, thoughtfully slotting his fingers between Tony’s, giving the man pause.

“Steve,” Tony said slowly, his eyes taking in everything, from the food to the lights to Steve’s expression and his hand in Tony’s. “Is this… is this a date?” he asked, his tone making it clear he was waiting to be corrected.

Steve sighed. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” he muttered, but laughed it off just as quickly, the shuffle of emotions startling Tony into trying to pull back, Steve’s firm grip the only thing keeping their hands from parting.

“Yeah, Shellhead. It’s a date,” Steve said with heartbreakingly earnest tenderness, his eyes trained on their joined hands like it was something he missed, but also something he’d never had and always wanted.

It was something Tony was entirely too familiar with, something he realized he’d given up long ago, when it was nothing more than a passing fancy, and Steve had found himself with wonderful women like Bernie and eventually Sharon.

“But Sharon,” Tony said suddenly, and Steve cut him off quickly.

“She’s the one who told me to stop wasting my time,” he said self-depreciatingly. “And we’re not… After everything, I think it’s best for both of us to try for something different.”

Tony nodded in understanding, too used to this to be bitter about it. “So that’s what I am? Something different.”

He felt Steve’s hand tighten its grip, but easing before it could hurt, his thumb smoothing over the skin on the back of his hand, making Tony shiver.

“No,” Steve said simply. “What you are is someone I’ve always loved. More than I ever allowed myself to. And even with all that’s happened, even when my pride says I should hate you for sticking to your beliefs just because they didn’t align with mine, it all feels so empty. Because every time I look beside myself and see you’re not there, I realize just how little everything matters in the face of that love. I was in love with you even when I didn’t know you beyond Iron Man, and I was in love with you when we were standing together as heroes. And I’m in love with you now. And I’ve wasted every single opportunity I had until I ran out, so… I had to make my own.”

Tony was silent for a while, letting his hand rest in Steve’s. They didn’t eat, the silence stretching on, with Steve waiting for Tony to say something—anything, just to resolve this moment, this one time Steve allowed himself to take a chance with something he’d been keeping in him for too long.

“So this _is_ a date,” Tony said at last, and Steve huffed a laugh.

“I said it was, weren’t you—” He stopped when Tony pulled his hand across the table, forcing him to stand, before his knees felt like they would go out of him when Tony pressed a long, tender kiss to the back of Steve’s hand, before pressing it to his cheek, breathing deep and slow.

“Shouldn’t keep the food waiting. It’s getting cold,” Tony said then, his voice suspiciously uneven, but his smile was so wide, cheeks so flushed with joy, that Steve decided that this could only be a good thing, and they ate, their hands never parting, arms laying across the table throughout.

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I'm ending it, but I plan to write in an epilogue after posting :) You can subscribe to watch out for that (after the gift reveals go out!)


End file.
